


Battlefield Woes

by Quiet_Shadow



Series: The Woes Series [9]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Touching, Rape, Sex Toys, Slash, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:11:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As he answers to a call for help from a newly established colony, Sentinel catches some unwanted attention on the battlefield. Sure, mechs telling him he’s sexy and wanting a piece of his aft could be nice -- even if he actually prefers pretty femmes. But such comments coming from the enemy? Not so nice anymore…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are, dear readers; the 9th installment of the 'Woes Series', where once again Sentinel Prime encounters mechs who are after his aft. :)
> 
> This time, it's a slight crossover with TF: Prime. Now, I admit I saw very few episodes of the Prime series, but in the ones I saw, the good Doctor caught my eyes, and I really wanted to try and use him at least once. I'm not too sure I got the characterization right, though, neither for him nor Breakdown. Speaking of, yes, I know that we saw his TFA version in the Stunti-Cons Job comics, but for the sake of this story, I'm going to ignore it.
> 
> I must admit, this story was hard to write, mainly because I kept getting sidetracked by other bunnies and stories. Started in September, I only finished it last week. Shame on me. X_X
> 
> On the plus side, this story was finished right on time for the first anniversary of the Woes Series. Because yes, ladies and gents, today, April 20th, marks the day I published my first Sentinel fic. So much time since 'Payment Woes'... and I had never expected to write so many Sentinel smut fics since then. Not that I think some of you will regret it. ^^
> 
> So, good reading, and hope you'll enjoy it (as well as the Random Woes story I intend to post right after ;) )

Sentinel Prime liked to think of himself like a proud, fearless warrior. Which, from a certain point of view, wasn’t exactly wrong. Although he wasn’t a very amiable mech and had quite a large ego, many ‘bots in the Autobots ranks readily admitted he was a good fighter. Perhaps not in the league of the prized cyberninjas trained by the late Yoketron, nor as powerful as Ultra Magnus, but he could hold his own in a skirmish.

Which was what he was doing presently.

The call had come quite suddenly. Several Decepticons ships had raided a newly installed colony on the outskirt of the Autobot Commonwealth, probably thinking the newly appointed garrison in place hadn’t had the time yet to complete the Space Bridge that would relay the backwater planet to Cybertron. They had thought wrong, fortunately for the Autobots, though it had been a damn near thing. The Bridge had been completed and tested not even a half-cycle ago.

As it was, Sentinel had immediately jumped into action once he had heard about the distress call and assembled a team to go help the helpless civilians and outnumbered Autobots fighters out of there. Barging out of the activated Space Bridge and leading the counter-attack, the Prime had quickly shouted his orders, sending a few mechs to help evacuate the injured and the civilians, sending other to secure a perimeter so medics could install a makeshift infirmary, and once he had been satisfied to see his orders obeyed, he had lept into the fray himself, intending to kick as many Decepticons’ afts as he could.

He had been going at it for a while now, and though he was starting to -- maybe -- feel a bit tired, he continued to fight. Ducking under a large mech’s arm and protecting his upper body with his faithful skyboom shield, he activated his battle lance and hit the large Decepticon right under the chin. The strength of the impact send the oafish mech stumbling backward, and Sentinel gave him a kick as powerful as he could, making him fall to the ground, where the Prime pierced him with his lance for good measure. The Con roared in pain but didn’t get back to his feet, so Sentinel turned toward a new adversary running toward him. His skyboom shield extended to protect him from an axe, and he grunted a bit as the impact was absorbed. Changing the grip on his lance, he charged forward.

Outside, he was showing himself to be a level-headed, responsible and courageous mech. Inside, he felt giddy. Finally, here he was, proving once for all he was the right bot to eventually succeed Ultra Magnus some cycle!

Sentinel wasn’t an idiot, or at least didn’t think he was one. Sure, getting good notes in the Academy and majoring from Autoboot Camp with honors (despite the loss of Elita that was branded on his records and in his CPU and spark and making him burn in shame and pain) showed he was good. Becoming a drill sergeant in said boot camp for a while wasn’t bad. But for a bot to have a real chance at being elected Magnus, he had to show the general population just how good he was in the field.

Dealing with a Decepticon attack was just the thing he needed to show everyone just how good he could be and how great a Magnus he would be someday! He could become a hero in the public’s optics in no time if he played his cards right. There would be news reports about his successful counterattack. His face in every medias on Cybertron. Perhaps some fan mails and, who knows? Perhaps a pretty femme or two who would blush when meeting him and to whom he could pay an oil or energon cube before they could become more… intimate?

He wouldn’t say no to a little company. Even a nice, pretty mech would be welcome, he supposed, so long he was lithe. Bulk was really a turn off in Sentinel’s optics.

His comm. garbled has he hit someone with his shield, pushing him away and possibly knocking him out. :: _Sentinel Prime here,_ :: he grunted, half expecting someone reporting a problem. Though the troops he had taken with him were capable and the fact they clearly outnumbered the Decepticons, as more Autobots had come through the Space Bridge in the meanwhile, the Cons weren’t backing down. They continued to fight and give them a hard time.

:: _Sentinel Prime,_ :: a deep voice boomed, and Sentinel straightened, instantly recognizing the voice of Ultra Magnus. Pit! Did the old mech came here to take command? If so, was it a good or a bad thing? On one hand, it could mean he had judged Sentinel’s handling of the situation lacking. On the other, it could also mean the situation was more serious than Sentinel had first expected, and the old mech had judged he needed to come and supervise it himself. Which, in both case, would be bad news…

:: _Sir,_ :: he acknowledged curtly as he ducked another assault. :: _I’m afraid I can’t speak to you right now,_ :: he groused as he had to duck again and managed to put his shield just in time between him and a Con trying to sideswipe him. :: _Some of these Decepticons are… ugh… persistent,_ :: he groused as the skyboom shield absorbed the impact but didn’t stop a tremor to go through him.

:: _I’m well aware, Sentinel Prime,_ :: the Magnus answered. :: _As it is, more Decepticon ships have been spotted nearby, and more enemy troops signalled. The Elite Guard is now on high alert, and I’ll be taking the command from now on. Dispatch the few Decepticons remaining in your area and regroup to the coordinates I’m sending you right now. We need to mount a larger counter offensive, and all Autobots still able to fight are needed._ ::

Not good at all, Sentinel realized. :: _Acknowledged, Sir. I’ll be here as soon as possible._ :: he send, lunging to the side to avoid a shot.

:: _Good. We’ll be waiting for you,_ :: the Magnus said, apparently satisfied. :: _And, Sentinel? Good job,_ :: the Magnus added before cutting the transmission.

Good job. Ultra Magnus had actually complimented the way he had handled things! It meant Sentinel was already on the right track for success!

Feeling regenerated at the mere thought of all the good things that wouldn’t miss to appear in the aftermath of a job well-done, Sentinel charged again at one of his opponents, knocking him out as the lance connected with his helmet and send him flying backward.

Bringing his shield closer to him and lance at the ready, Sentinel paused and glanced around. Several bots were lying on the ground, in stasis or already grey in death. Had he been younger, less experimented or not convinced they would have killed him in turn had he not defended himself accordingly, he would have felt queasy. As it was, it only felt a twinge of… something he couldn’t clearly define. He was just happy to be alive, and at the same time, he felt a bit preoccupied. Quickly, he examined the corpses.

He didn’t see any Autobot among them, which was both a relief… and very worrisome. He was the only one standing as far as he could see. Of course, the rocks were limiting his vision somewhat, but even so, he had thought himself closer to the Autobots lines and the Space Bridge. Concentrated on the fight as he had been, he hadn’t noticed until now he had been separated from the rest of his troops. Damn… He could hear the sounds of fighting nearby, so he was probably not too far away from them, he supposed. That was good. That meant he knew more or less were to head, even if he had to stay cautious as he made his way to the other Autobots fighters scattered around. There were probably other isolated fighters around here. He needed to join them first, and take anyone still living back to the command center, join the Magnus and see how the old mech straightened this mess…

“My, my, such a nice aft,” a voice drawled behind him, far too close for comfort.

Sentinel didn’t yelp, because this would have been too undignified. He may have made a sound of mixed surprise and fright, but he didn’t yelp. He just tightened his hold on his lance and his shield and turned on his heels, ready to strike at whoever had snuck on him. He had thought he would face against a big, nasty Decepticon, probably armed to the teeth and ready to try and snuff his spark.

Instead, he found a relatively small mech, with arms raised in the air, shrugging. “Hey, easy here,” the mech drawled lazily.

Sentinel’s optics narrowed as he took in the mysterious mech’s appearance.

Small was the first thing that came to mind. Or at least, smaller than Sentinel has expected when he had turned; the mech was actually about his size, perhaps an inch smaller. The mech leaned against a rock, smirking as he watched the Prime. For some reason, it made Sentinel wary of him, if only a little. He had a lithe body, painted in shades of red and grey, a thin face and red optics. It made Sentinel bristle even before he caught sight of the purple badge on the other mech’s chest. Decepticon!

“En garde, Decepticon!” he snarled, ready to charge.

But the other mech didn’t raise to the challenge. He only raised his hands higher in the air, showing he wasn’t armed and talked quickly. “Now, now, I don’t think it’s necessary, my dear mech! See, I’m not armed! I don’t have a gun or a sword or a cannon or anything so remotely dangerous! I’m not here to fight! I was just on my way for answering a call for medical help, I swear! I don’t partake in the… grunts fun,” he added with a sneer. “I’m a medic, see?” he added, turning slightly so Sentinel was able to spot a symbol etched into his left shoulder.

The Prime didn’t relapse his grip on either his shield or his lance, but his shoulders sagged slightly. It was indeed a medical ensign, though not one still in use on Cybertron. Of course, the Decepticons must have kept the old ones where the Autobots had adopted a new system upon the reorganisation of a global Medical Corps who had authority in the whole Commonwealth. This mech was sporting the mark of an old Kaon-trained medic.

A Decepticon medic… unusual, but hardly worrisome, Sentinel decided. The mech didn’t look like much, what’s with being so… little next to half the Decepticons Sentinel had crossed path with today. The Prime felt torn for a moment. His instincts and training wanted him to battle anything and everything sporting the Decepticon brand. On the other end, there were accords between the two factions making medics above petty attacks. They were, in theory, protected by a status of non-combatant and shouldn’t be included in fight unless they joined off on their own volition, in which case they became just another enemy. The rest of the time, as long as they helped the wounded, they weren’t supposed to get involved at all.

The Decepticon was a medic. He pretended not to be armed. He wasn’t pointing a weapon at Sentinel. And there was nobody help to spot the encounter… It was conflicting. What should he trust? His training or the rules he was supposed to obey?

Finally, Sentinel grunted.

“What is a medic doing here?” he asked gruffly.

The mech raised an optic ridge. “His job, I’d gather. Or at least, that was what I had hoped to do, but it seems you already took it out of my hands,” he said shrugging casually as he pointed to one of the corpse. “I’m a medic, not a miracle worker, I’m afraid. I don’t ressuscite the dead. Too bad for them,” he shrugged again, glancing at Sentinel and looking him over with a small light in his optics, something Sentinel seemed obvious to. “I shouldn’t thank you.”

The Prime bristled. “We’re at war. I did what a soldier had to do. And don’t hesitate to think I won’t do the same thing with you,” he warned the Decepticon, still pointing his lance at him.

The red mech snorted and waved. “Please, put that thing away. I’d rather you have something else pointed at me,” he said with a strange small smile. “I don’t intend on joining the fights if I can help it. I just came down to see if there were wounded in need to be brought back to the ships. Obviously, there is none here that would beneficiate from my help, so I guess I’ll just wander further away.”

“None? What of these two?” Sentinel asked, moving his lance to point at two unconscious mechs who were still spotting colors, indicating they were only in statis.

The mech shrugged. “I already scanned them while you were busy turning poor Torque into scrap,” he said, waving at one of the grey corpses. “There are stable enough, no in risk to slowly die of energon loss or cascade failures, and I’d be better to treat their injuries back in a good Medbay. I fear I don’t have the right tools to actually do the right kind of repairs they need. Stupid Triage insisting we head down without taking the proper supplies,” he grumbled, pouting.

Sentinel twitched a bit. “So you’re going to just leave them here?” he asked in disbelief.

The Decepticon medic shrugged. “Why the Pit not? Aside of you, I see no fighter around, so I doubt someone will just come and finish them off. With a medical beacon to let a more organized rescue team pick them up, their chances are better than if I managed to actually bring them out of stasis and send them back to try and actually shoot Autobots. I don’t think you’d like that, somehow,” he added drily.

Sentinel grunted. The medic wasn’t wrong. That didn’t meant a part of him didn’t object to this rather cavalier way to treat injured mechs, even if they were Decepticons. “Medics I know wouldn’t do that.”

“Medics you know are Autobots with, I don’t doubt, better material for repairs than I have,” the other mech drawled. “Besides, Decepticons like to play it tough. I find it little endearing myself; what’s the point of playing big back mech if it only lead you to get deactivated? Stupid prideful mechs,” he sighed. “Would it be too hard for them to actually say: _‘Hey Doc, could you get a look at my shoulder joint?’_ or _‘Please Knock Out, would you mind checking whatever is hurting me’_? It’s a rhetorical question, if you were wondering,” he added for Sentinel, a humorless smile on his lips. “We medic get no appreciation whatever for our services. Of course, given how uncouths most of the troops are, it’s no wonder,” he sighed.

He stretched his arms and walked a bit. Sentinel kept his lance headed his way, still a bit wary, but his posture was already much more relaxed. Seriously, the mech -- Knock Out, from his own words -- didn’t seem very dangerous. Perhaps a bit of a drama queen and rather cavalier about his patients, but most medics having served in the Great War that Sentinel had had the displeasure to meet for one reason or another tended to be like that. Apparently, Decepticons weren’t different from Autobots on that point.

Knock Out was pacing now, hands crossed behind his back. “Really, it’s so hard to actually find someone who is cultured and who knows how to take care of his or her person. Of course, it’s not always their fault. Lot of Decepticons actually came from the lower classes of the population, such as miners and factory workers and as such, had little time or appreciation for the finer points of culture, but after so many eons, you would have expected them to pick something up, don’t you think? I’m always surprised when I see one of them actually read something. That doesn’t meant a couple of them can’t actually surprise you and reveal themselves to be cultured, but they’re far in between. Why, I once saw one of the frontliner put out of subspace a datafile describing the differences between Tarnian and Iaconian poetry from pre-reformation era! Imagine my delight when I saw that and actually managed to hold a conversation with him. Of course, he had to go and get slagged during a skirmish with the Quintessons, and there went my only source of entertainment and enlightened discussion for vorns,” the medic sighed.

Sentinel made a noncommittal noise even as he lowered his shield a bit. “How unfortunate,” he mumbled.

Knock Out glanced at him speculatively. “I don’t suppose you know anything about this subject, would you? Or anything about traditional Cybertronian literature at all? Or even the fine Arts in general? Oh, of course you mustn’t; you’re a career soldier, it shows in how you hold yourself, so I don’t suppose you ever held any interest for...”

Sentinel glared at him. “I’m not unliterate! I do not like poetry that much, but I’d like you to know I’m quite knowledgeable about Protihex theatre! And I often go to see the classical ballets and spectacles at the Grand Iacon Opera!” He didn’t mention he didn’t particularly care for them, but Sentinel indeed went to a lot of spectacles, accompanying the Magnus or a random Senator or Councilmech as a body-guard of sort.

He held little love for the Arts, but a future Magnus had to know everything, and the Entertainment Guild presently held a lot of weight in the Council. And occasionally, it was true he found himself enjoying whatever he had been dragged to see.

Knock Out’s optics widened at Sentinel’s words. “Is that so? How wonderful it must be,” he said wistfully. “I wish I had your chance…?” he hesitated.

“Sentinel Prime,” Sentinel allowed.

“Oh! A Prime! This explain everything!” the medic said cheerfully. “There can only be an officer to have taste and fine appreciation for arts and culture, or for taking such good care of its frame, I should have guessed immediately! Why, that stainless frame, this powerful shoulder, that shiny, perfectly applied coat of polish! No mere soldier, Autobot or Decepticon, could do it!”

Unconsciously, Sentinel’s lance and shield lowered yet again as he preened. He liked it when people noticed his efforts to appear decent. People had to see Elite Guard officers as role models to follow, after all. Ok, so maybe it was a Decepticon who was noticing, but it helped feed his ego. “Is that so?”

Knock Out nodded eagerly. “Just look at yourself! You’re a shining example of what our species has best to offer! That pretty, sturdy frame! That manly, virile chin! I bet you have a lot of fans among the civilians! I know a few Decepticons who would certainly join your fan club,” he said, optics flashing briefly. “I wouldn’t mind doing so myself.”

Oookkay. That was… slightly weird and it sounded a bit wrong to his audio, though Sentinel couldn’t precisely pinpoint why. There was nothing threatening in Knock Out’s voice or his posture, but something just made Sentinel ill-at-ease. Perhaps because it was a Decepticon who was complimenting him. Yes, that had to be that. The enemy wasn’t supposed to comment on how nice looking you were; he was supposed to try and slag you.

Sentinel quickly should his head to clear his mind. As weird and unexpected the conversation was, he shouldn’t forget where he was, i.e. near a battlefield, where some of his comrades were certainly in need of his help. And he had received direct orders from the Magnus to join him immediately! He couldn’t stay and have idle chat with an enemy medic!

“You should rejoin your own lines, Doc,” he said, letting his Skyboom shield’s energy screen to dissipate -- better he kept the energy to activate and manipulate it for a more dangerous zone.

Knock Out nodded slowly. “I think it would be for the best, yes.”

Sentinel grunted noncommittally. “Be careful, will you? It’s against common accords to attack medics on duty, but that doesn’t mean someone won’t make a mistake or be as nice as me,” he warned, turning and starting to walk away.

Knock Out hummed. “I’ll keep that in mind, Autobot. But truthfully, so do you, Sentinel Prime. You seem to be a nice mech, not having tried to even scratch my paint. But if you’re nice, you also seem…”

Just as spoke, Sentinel screamed in pain as something hit him in the small of his back. His systems fizzled and buzzed with electricity, limbs going out of control and shaking even as he fell down to the ground face first, his lance slipping from his limp servos and his shields joining it in the dust. His optics kept shuttering and brightening suddenly as a violent, painful charge went through him. Distantly, he heard the Decepticon finish to speak.

“... incredibly naive.”

What the Pit had just happened?! Why…? Slag it, why had he let his guard down? This wasn’t just a freaking medic, it was also a Decepticon! Decepticons could never be trustworthy! Just wait until he got back to his feet, then Knock Out would regret what he had just done. Medic or not, he had attacked an Autobot soldier; he was now just another enemy soldier, and Sentinel was going to enjoy taking him down!

With a grunt, he tried to move his arms to grab his abandoned weapon. But nothing happened. His servos barely twitched, and his whole body felt numb or in pain, depending on which part he was talking about. He couldn’t move at all, Sentinel realized as he tried once again to shift and turn to his side. What the frag did that traitor do to him?!

A red foot appeared in the corner of the Prime’s vision, even as a metal stick was planted into the ground and a voice let casual words slip. “As I said, I have no gun, no cannon, no sword. I got a couple of medical devices and scalpels -- which, by the way, should be considered weapons, though not very effective ones unless one is in closer range than you were -- to attend to my patients… and a good old, trustworthy energon prod to defend myself against ruffians. They pack quite a punch, as you may have noticed.”

Slagging, dirty coward of a Decepticon, Sentinel thought as he tried desperately to get his body back under control, but he couldn’t lift a single servo. He tried to shout and swear, but only a gargle of words escaped his vocalizer, too muddled with statics to even be decipherable.

“Oh no, no, no,” Knock Out chided him. “Don’t try to speak, dear, you will only hurt your vocalizer. It would be so bad to have such a wonderful voice damaged, don’t you think?”

Sentinel once tried to swear, feeling slightly panicked when once again he only produced statics. Knock Out sighed.

“Such a stubborn one!” the medic exclaimed with an half-laugh. “Pretty as well as spirited… I really like that.” Ok, Sentinel really didn’t like the way the medic had said that; he sounded almost… purring, and the Prime decided it was definitely of the bad. Frag, why had he lowered his guard?

Knock Out circled around the downed form of the Autobot, intensifying Sentinel’s nervousness. What the Pit the dirty ‘Con wanted with him now? Was he going to dismantle him for spare parts? Was he searching for a way to offline him as cruelly as possible? He tensed as the Decepticon medic crouched near him, though he couldn’t actually see him, he was very aware of his presence. Feeling tense, even though his body remained immobile and ‘relaxed’, so to speak, he worriedly waited for a quick or for the cold bite of a scalpel cutting him open.

Feeling a hand groping his aft certainly wasn’t what he had imagined.

Sentinel yelped as he felt it. Knock Out chuckled. “My, no need to be so vocal, dearest. Then again…” he trailed off, chuckling.

His hands roamed over Sentinel’s backside, squeezing and groping, making the downed Prime emit static-laced yelps of protest to wish he paid no attention as he thoroughly examined his catch, commenting pleasingly on what he was seeing.

“I was right; you really have a very, very nice aft,” he purred as he groped it again. “I was thinking I was a bit mistaken, what with seeing you in the middle of that dreadful fight and seeing how little time I had to detail you during our chat, but you’re indeed a fine example of mechs who care about their appearance! Just look at that luxurious finish you have!” he said, stroking the Prime’s back. “Freshly applied, if I’m not mistaken. And these bright colors! The clear sign of a mech who only order the best paints to be reapplied on himself. There’s barely a scratch on you -- and the few ones you have must have been consequences of that stupid melee you went in. Makes me want to kill the slagger who dared to mar your perfection myself if he wasn’t dead already,” he grumbled. “Ah, well, no matter. You’re certainly not as perfectly polished as me, but you’re certainly taking care of your frame, and I like it in a mech. And your aesthetics are certainly something optics-catching,” he purred again.

… Was that Decepticon telling him he found him… cute? Handsome? Appealing? Whatever word he could think of for ‘attractive’?

Sentinel wanted to shudder, even if his frame didn’t react. Forget about the previous uneasiness he had felt under Knock Out’s easy-handed compliments. Now they were just sending blaring alarms down his CPU. He was alone, immobilized, groped by an enemy… It wasn’t going to end well, he thought with dread.

Knock Out was still happily chatting without a care for the Prime’s discomfort. Carefully, he shifted the frame so Sentinel was lying on his back, arms resting along his sides and legs slightly parted. He kept looking at his prisoner up and down. The Prime didn’t miss the way the Decepticon medic’s glance always minutely paused around his codpiece, and it made his vents hitch for a moment. Surely not…?

“As I said, you have a sturdy frame, even if it’s on the small side for us Decepticon. Then again, I’m not that big myself, and it pleases me to have someone of my own size to look at,” he said, winking. “I wasn’t kidding about your chin; it certainly gives you a little something… an air of authority, perhaps -- or pride; yes, pride, that’s it! -- that I find very drawn to. And Primus, these shoulders are very dreamy! Large and strong, and I bet the arms and hands they’re attached to can be very talented! It does a nice contrast with your slim waist and of course, that cute aft so optics-catching. Of course, I found myself more curious about the front side,” he added, optics glinting madly as he crouched down.

A hand went to cup Sentinel’s codpiece and the Prime gasped in shock and he swore, glaring at the Decepticon and shouting at him to remove his hand right away, though only mangled sounds came out. It seemed to amuse the medic, who chuckled.

“Now, now, no need to try and be vulgar, dearest,” he said as his hands moved to rest on the inside of Sentinel’s thighs, forcing them apart to give him better access. He grinned widely as he eyed the Prime, servos digging into seams even as Sentinel produced more garbled sounds and tried vainly to shake his head and jerk away from the deceptively inoffensive medic. One clawed hand reached again for the codpiece, lightly brushing against it, making Sentinel even more nervous.

“Care to let me unwrap you?” the Decepticon asked pleasantly. The Prime glared at him, making him smile widely. “Yes? Why, thank you! I’m curious about the treat I’m going to find underneath,” he said as his fingers searched for something. With dread, Sentinel realized it was the manual sequence to part the panel protecting his interface array.

Normally, the mechanisms allowing it were well-hidden, as to protect possibly unconscious mechs or femmes from debauched, lecherous assailants, and a mech could sometimes spends whole joors before finding the right sequences of push that would allow him to access another mech’s most private area, aside of his Spark. Was he being… molested by any other mech, Sentinel would have been nervous, sure, but he would have held to the hope the mech holding him down would have abandoned out of sheer frustration. However, to his growing panic, Knock Out was a medic, so he knew where to search, and where to press so it would part before him. The Decepticon hummed. “I wonder if your valve and spike are looking half as good as you,” he pondered aloud as, with a final ‘click’, Sentinel’s panel finally slid aside.

The Prime screamed something incoherent. Knock Out peered and released a deep breath. “Well, it doesn’t look half as good… It’s truly look as beautiful and tasty as you are,” he purred, eyeing the valve with interest and licking his lips as he stared at the spike’s housing. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “Do you mind if I take a closer look? Of course not, I knew you wouldn’t,” he chuckled, not listening to Sentinel’s garbled protests. “You look so sweet and tasty I can’t help but want to… have a taste,” he winked.

Sentinel’s optics just widened in horror. Nononono! He didn’t want the dirty Con to touch him down there, and he certainly didn’t want him to touch him with his filthy glossa! He glared at Knock Out with a mixture or rage, warning and also, though he didn’t want to admit it, fear.

Get your hands of me, you perv! He wanted to shout.

Knock Out paid no attention to the heated glares headed at him. Leaning forward, he let his glossa dart between his lips and gave Sentinel’s valve a small, teasing lick that made the Prime gasp and wiggle as much as he could to get away. Fragging, dirty Con! What did he thought he was doing?! Thin, deft servos started to lightly brush against the spike housing even as teasing lips started to lightly touch the rim of his valve, lightly, barely, with small licks every now and there.

The light touches happened at random, making Sentinel tense despite the limpness of his body. He just wanted to throw off the lithe -- even if he was slightly taller than him -- mech off him and bash his head on the ground until he was unconscious. Then to bash him with his Skyboom Shield. And whack him with his lance, just to be sure. The freaking Con and his filthy servos disgusted him! Despite that, Knock Out teasing were having an effect on his body, to his greatest shame. Encouraged by the brush of the Decepticon medic’s fingers, his spike was starting to poke out, the tip well out and the rest of the shaft slowly raising, inch by inch. Worse, however, was his valve; Sentinel almost keened -- and would have had his vocoder not continued to spit statics -- when he felt heat start to pool between his legs and a small, single bead of lubricant roll out of him only to be delicately caught over Knock Out’s filthy lips.

The Decepticon leaned a bit forward, looking very pleased, licking the bead of liquid off of his lips. “Hmm, I was right,” he purred. “You DO taste sweet, little Prime. I think I’m going to really enjoy you,” he smirked, even as Sentinel spit again senseless noises.

He leaned forward again, but to Sentinel’s surprise, he didn’t return his… dubious attention to the Prime’s valve. Instead, his lips worked around the tip of his spike, surrounding it fully before he started to… suck on it, as if it was a carbonate-lollipop, like the ones Sentinel had enjoyed as treats during his sparklinghood. Sentinel couldn’t stop a moan from escaping him. Well, a moan that was filled with statics, but a moan all the same, and Knock Out seemed very much pleased by it, if the Prime had to judge from the chuckle that send vibrations down his slowly raising spike.

The medic was… insistent in his efforts. His glossa kept rolling over the tip of Sentinel’s spike, before carefully licking the underside as he swallowed more and more as the Prime’s erection rose. Sentinel could only shake his head helplessly. Frag! He usually liked blow jobs, but not with a dirty Con! To add to his humiliation, if Knock Out seemed to be quite… concentrated on this part of the Autobot’s anatomy, he still didn’t neglect Sentinel’s valve. A finger was steadily stroking the rim of the valve, teasing, sometimes dipping inside, bringing out little rivulet of lubricants that kept to get produced as the Prime’s unwilling excitation grew. Sentinel’s cheeks flushed as he felt the lubricant being spread all over the rim of his valve, making him feel quite aware of the moistness. And still Knock Out kept sucking on his spike as if it was one of his favorite treats!

Oh, he was so going to kill the fragger!

… No, not fragger, he shouldn’t think about this word, because it was clear he was going to get fragged by the filthy Con, and he didn’t want to get fragged by the enemy! Still, he knew that the moment he was able to move again, he’d slag the filthy, perverted Con!

_Ooooooh, Primus, made him stop!_ he thought desperately as Knock Out stopped just stroking and occasionally dipping into his valve in favor of frankly thrusting his finger in and out of Sentinel, quickly at that, making the Prime almost keen in both pleasure and slight pain. The nuance seemed to not escape Knock Out’s audios, for he briefly paused and went slower, to Sentinel’s slight relief.

Said relief died very quickly, though, when he felt a second finger press against his opening, ready to be thrusted in. Sentinel feebly shook his head and tried to move away, to no avail. Statics-filled protests were once more ignored, Knock Out obviously having way too much fun in continuing his assaults on the Prime’s interface array. The second finger was introduced right along the first, and slowly, the Decepticon medic started to scissor his port, making it spread open, to Sentinel’s mortification.

How could his stupid frame enjoy that?!

The moment he was back on Cybertron, he was so going to head straight to the Medical Department for a well-needed check-up! Then perhaps he would drop by the Science Ministry to have a talk with Perceptor. Rumor had it that he had managed to remove his interface array or made it temporarily inactive at the same time he had deleted most of his emotional sub-protocols. If it was true, Sentinel thought it might be something worth investigating. Especially if other Decepticons he was bound to fight were as dirty-minded as the slagging medic pawing at him!

Oh yes, a way to control his frame so it wouldn’t react so easily to such… such… perverted things unless Sentinel really desired so!

Time notions slide fast; Sentinel had no idea how long Knock Out kept sucking at his spike, or scissoring his valve -- which he continued even after he added a third, then a fourth finger inside him! -- but it could have been a cycle like a megacycle altogether. Some noises from the battle could still be heard in the background.

The Prime wondered desperately why no one was coming to check on him. Ultra Magnus had ordered him to report, after all. Surely, the mech had noticed Sentinel still wasn’t here? And surely was he starting to worry? Sentinel knew he couldn’t reach or be reached by anyone -- his systems were still staticy and muddled -- but what could stop his CO to send someone to check on the last coordinates he had transmitted?

Of course, if the battle was still going, it was probably hard to depeche someone, but still! Sentinel was a Prime! An officer! Surely, that warranted some concern!  
Suddenly, Knock Out stopped, making Sentinel keen and moan even as he Spark swelled in relief. The medic sat on his heels, right between Sentinel’s legs, and seemed to consider the Autobot’s erected spike with attention.

“Hmm, a bit smaller than I had hoped,” he pouted, making Sentinel bristle. Was the slagging Con criticizing the size of his spike?! “Of course, I should have expected it; after all, Autobots are so… small in general! I knew I shouldn’t get my hopes too high. That said, the girth is acceptable, and some modification can be done,” the medic continued, seemed thoughtful. “Hmm, yes, it would be quite easy for such a talented mech as me to perform that procedure.” He smirked and lightly patted Sentinel’s spike. “Don’t you worry, you’ll be an even more handsome mech when I’m finished with you.”

Sentinel just glared at him, spitting statics that one could easily guess were insults.

Knock Out chuckled. “Not convinced? Don’t you worry, dear, just trust me, and I’ll show you. Anyway, your spike looks like quite the treat, and I think I’ll enjoy riding it,” he purred, making Sentinel blink and blush. “Sure, it’s smaller than my mate’s spike, but that’s what is interesting,” he smirked. “Did I ever told you about my mate? No? Oh, he’s quite the handsome mech,” Knock Out gushed. “He fills me up so perfectly, spreads me so wide,” he sighed, making Sentinel very uncomfortable. Did he really had to listen to that?!

Knock Out shook his head, as if he wanted to clear his thoughts. “Sadly, I don’t see him as often as I’d like. He’s almost always gone on some mission or another,” he grimaced. “I enjoy each of his leaves, but really, a mech has needs! How am I supposed to fulfill them if he’s never around?” he asked rhetorically. “Thankfully, Breakdown isn’t a jealous sort, and he stated several times already he wouldn’t make a scene if I decided to… take someone else to my berth. But as you already know, most of my fellow Decepticons are frankly not appealing,” he said, stroking Sentinel’s spike likely, making the Prime moan. “As you can guess, I felt pretty much deprived for a while, before I started to look into the other faction. You Autobots do have quite the lookers, you know?” he commented airily. “So many pretty mechs, with at least basic notions of self-care and hygiene! The only problem is… your small size,” he added, watching Sentinel over.

The Prime felt pretty alarmed for some reason.

“Oh, I know I’m not a particularly tall mech either! Any Autobot reasonably good-looking could in theory suit me. The thing is,” he commented, “although I’d take great relish in fragging an Autobot, I’d feel bad if my dear Breakdown couldn’t also enjoy said Autobot,” he smirked.

Ok, NOW Sentinel was definitely alarmed, to the point of panic, because he had a pretty good idea of where this conversation was leading! Sentinel tried to shout something, to no avail.

As if he hadn’t heard him, Knock Out continued his monologue. “The problem with Breakdown is that he’s bigger than me -- like most of my fellow Decepticons, as you know. Now, I can’t just bring over a Minibot, even if he had a nice spike, for my mate wouldn’t be able to find pleasure with him -- the valve would be far too little,” he said, shaking his head. “You’d say a Decepticon would be preferable in this case, wouldn’t you? The thing is, if most of them wouldn’t mind fragging me and give me some good valve overloads, they’re much more reluctant to bend over and let Breakdown stuff them full. The big, though brutes are too ‘mechly’ to allow themselves to be spiked,” he snorted.

He smiled down at Sentinel. “So… I decided to go looking for a rare specimen. An Autobot, close in size to me, good looking, with a sturdy, clean frame, notions of self-care, not too much of a bore so we can occasionally converse, with a nice spike for me to ride and,” he brushed his fingers against the rim of Sentinel’s valve “a tight but also deep valve for my Breakdown to frag. And really, Sentinel darling? I think you’re the most perfect specimen I ever landed my optics on. Now, I just need a confirmation of your prowess,” he said, reaching for a subspace pocket.

Slowly, under Sentinel’s widening and horrified optics, he took out a false spike. A large, ridged false spike that was far bigger than the few ones Sentinel had seen before. In magazines. He had never used any on himself, of course. Nope, never. Though he had seen other Cadets do it. In Boot Camp. That’s where he had found out about them.

Knock Out smirked. “Nice, isn’t it? It’s my mate’s perfect replica. I use it to test potential lovers. Now, Sentinel darling, how about we see if it fits you?” he purred. “Actually, it’s a rhetorical question,” he added. “I just know it’s going to be filling you perfectly.”

Sentinel’s optics widened in fright. Nonononononono! He didn’t want to see if that thing could fit into him! He didn’t thought it actually could! It looked far too massive for that! And Sentinel hated getting spiked! Nonononono! He tried to shook his head, to no avail, and to… No, he didn’t actually beg. He just… tried to ask the Decepticon to reconsider his actions. The difference was subtle. Of course, since all he managed to produce were static noises, whatever he could say went unlistened to.

Slowly, the tip of the false spike pressed against the opening of his valve, and to Sentinel’s mortification, he actually felt his valve clench over nothing. Knock Out’s fingers had spread him and worked him over so much that his port was just… begging to be filled.

The moment he was back on Cybertron, Sentinel swore he was getting that memory erased.

His future plans, however, couldn’t save him from the present moment. Slowly, the tip of the false spike was pushed inside him, making him keen as it started to spread him wider than the fingers had. Primus, it was too big, he just knew it! It would never fit! The slagging Con was just going to rip his valve if he tried that!  
Still, it didn’t seem to worry the medic, who was alternating between humming and shushing Sentinel when he made too much noise as more of the toy was slowly pressed into him, inch by inch, even as his valve rippled around the invader, stretching wider to accommodate the girth of the false spike. He just keened louder when his valve started to clench around the intruder. Frag! Why did his body had to react like that?!

Knock Out let out a chuckle. “There, there, Sentinel darling,” he said, patting the blue mech’s hips. “No need to sound so distraught!” He chuckled again, louder, and seeming pleased. “Well, isn’t that a nice surprise? I was right! It does fit. I’d even say it fit you perfectly, just like I suspected it would,” he grinned as he leaned back.

Sentinel looked down as much as he could and his Spark almost missed a beat. As surprising as it was, the obviously-to-him too large toy was indeed fully stuffed down his valve, only the flanged end being actually visible, closely adhering to his pelvic plating. His valve felt… full. Overly full, even, but it didn’t… hurt, to his surprise, and aside of the uncomfort of having a toy into him that he very much desired to be gone, he wasn’t in any kind of pain. Rather the contrary, he found out, ashamed, as his valve clenched and rippled around the false spike, making him moan loudly as he tried to move, only managing to make his erected spike bob in the air.

Knock Out laughed, rising up and opening his own panel, slowly caressing and fingering his own valve as he looked down at Sentinel. “Such a beautiful sight you make!” he sighed. “Really, I wish my Breakdown was here; his spike feels even nicer than that toy. You would love it,” he winked at Sentinel, who just glared at him hatefully. “Oh, is my little Prime angry about something?” he asked, head tilted to the side. “Is that because I’m neglecting you? Or worse, because you feel I’m neglecting your spike? Oh, but don’t worry, dear! I’m almost ready,” he purred, withdrawing his fingers from his now nicely moist valve. He liked his lips with gluttony as he considered the treat laid before him. “Exquisite,” he whispered, moving and kneeling as to straddle Sentinel’s hips, trying to correctly align his valve opening with the Autobot’s spike.

Oh nononono! Sentinel groaned and try to struggle and get away from the Decepticon. He didn’t want him to… to straddle him and ride his spike!

… Well, perhaps, had circumstances been very, very different, he might not have minded so much, because Knock Out was, the Prime had to acknowledge very, very grudgingly, an attractive mech even if he was a dirty Con -- and even if Sentinel prefered femmes -- and the Prime did like a good spike overload here and now. He did enjoy pretty femmes and the occasional mech riding his spike…

But not a fragging Decepticon!

To his surprise, Sentinel found out he could actually move a little, and his Spark soared with hope -- the paralysis effects were dissipating! That meant perhaps he could escape and… He yelped as Knock Out grabbed the base of his spike, tutting.

“Ah, ah, ah, dearest, no getting away,” he warned, using his hand to guide the Prime’s spike to his valve, purring as he dragged the tip of it against his valve opening. “You and I are going to have a lot of fun,” he purred again as he moved and slowly started to lower himself on the spike he held, hissing as the tip penetrated him and started to spread the walls of his valve. “Yesssss, like that!”

Carefully, he lowered himself deeper on the Autobot’s spike until he was fully sitting, humming in contentment. “Hmmm, not bad. Of course, a bit smaller than I would have liked, and no mods or custom designs, but nice as far as spike goes,” he commented, smiling down at Sentinel’s red face -- the Prime caught between pleasure at being encased in the wet heat of the Decepticon’s port, and embarrassment at being called out on the ‘small size’ of his interface array.

Smirking, Knock Out started to roll his hips, making Sentinel gasp as he felt the tight walls of the Decepticon medic’s valve ripple around his length -- and making him all the more aware of the toy stuffed inside him, around which his own valve kept clenching, making him keen and moan as unwanted pleasure went through his frame. His face contorted in a curious expression, mix of reluctance, disgust and pleasure, which made Knock Out laugh aloud.

“Oh dear, you don’t seem so happy! My poor darling Autobot! What could I do to brighten you up?” he seemed to ponder aloud, taking an exaggerated thoughtful expression before clapping his hands. “Oh, I know!” His hands roamed over Sentinel’s chest seductively. “I just know what to do to make you… relax,” he purred, before his hands came back lower and grabbed Sentinel’s hips. Using them to shift his weight, he started to ride slowly off the Autobot’s spike, making sure to stroke all the nodes he could inside his valve with a delighted expression.

Sentinel’s mouth opened wide as he let out a deep, static-filled moan as he felt the encasing heat of the Decepticon leave him… only to scream in pleasure as Knock Out abruptly let himself sink on his length again, fast and hard. The medic hissed.

“You like it, don’t you, my dear? Yes, yes, I know you do. I promise I’m going to make you quite enjoy it.” With a chuckle, he added. “Just trust me; I’m a doctor.” And with that, he started to rise once more before letting himself fall back down again, starting to ride Sentinel’s spike with gusto.

The Prime would have been unable to say how long it lasted -- his internal chronometer had fritzed when Knock Out had electrocuted him. It could have been a few cycle like it could have been an eternity, though an eternity was doubtful since he could still register some battle noises, despite them being somehow dimmer than before. As it was, he could only stay immobile as a slagging Decepticon used him like an interface toy. His valve kept clenching around the toy as his lubricant dripped off around the large false spike, slowly helping him edge toward an overload, as if Knock Out riding him wasn’t enough!

The Decepticon kept changing pace and style, something riding him fast and hard, rising and falling down again to the point of making them both cry out, or sometimes lazily rolling his hips while kissing and stroking Sentinel’s torso and neck, looking scandalously pleased with himself.

The worst part? The damn medic wouldn’t let him overload! Each time Sentinel felt like he was reaching it, Knock Out abruptly stopped moving, stopping Sentinel just at the edge, and only started to move again once the charge of the Autobot had dimed down enough for his taste. Only and only then did he start rolling his hips again, to the Prime’s frustration.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, “not just yet! We’ve barely started! Really, endurance is something you’ll have to work on, my dear Prime,” he’d say, or something akin to that. It made Sentinel want to strangle him -- how dare he mock him and his berth experience?! All of Sentinel’s lovers had been very pleased with him! He certainly didn’t need to ‘build up endurance’ for that kind of things!

One of his hands tightened in a fist as Knock Out again laughed at him -- the paralysis effect was still strong, but he had found out he could move his fingers, though he couldn’t raise his wrists yet. Oh, to be able to punch the fragger in the face and break his dental plates… The medic’s clawed fingers tightened suddenly around his hips, even as the red mech continued to roll his hips.

“So… so close,” Knock Out panted. “Ready for it, darling?” he asked with a grin.

Well, of course Sentinel was ready! He was ready for anything so long it stopped! If that could help the filthy Con to get off him, he would even help! Even as Knock Out moved, he willed his hips to move and buckle. It was feeble at best, but it somehow worked, and it certainly made the Con gasp in pleased surprise.

“Oh… oh my!” he looked down at Sentinel with glinting optics. “Are you so taken with me you want to participate more actively, dear?” he asked teasingly, just laughing at Sentinel’s half-hearted glare. “I’ll be making sure you do next time,” he purred.

Wait, next time?! Sentinel had just the time to register it before Knock Out cried out, climaxing. His valve clenched hard around the Prime’s spike, several times in a row, in turn making Sentinel cry out as he reached his own overload.

Sentinel felt far too aware of the transfluid bursting out of him, greedily milked by the Decepticon medic’s valve even as part of it gushed out of the red mech’s body as he moved. He was also too aware of his own valve rippling around the toy still lodged deeply into him. He couldn’t wait for that thing to get taken off!

Knock Out just collapsed over the Autobot’s body, shifting as to let the now limp spike out of him. With delice, he snuggled against the immobile body, hands trailing over that large, broad chest. Rising a little, he leaned forward and kissed the blue mech deeply, playing with his glossa, to Sentinel’s muffled protests.

“You were perfect,” he whispered. “Absolutely perfect. Just the right mech for me when my Breakdown isn’t here. If only he could see you right now…” he sighed.

“I think I saw enough already,” a new voice said simply, making Sentinel’s optics widden as Knock Out, startled, shifted and looked over his shoulder. Sentinel couldn’t see much because the angle was rather awkward, but there was another mech present, leaning casually against a rock. Despite his arms crossed over his chest, one could see the hint of a purple emblem on his chest.

Sentinel’s Spark sunk. Since when did that mech had been here?! What… What had he seen?! Oh Primus, it was bad enough he had been… manhandled by a filthy-minded Decepticon, but to have another witness to this… this… pervert’s acts? Primus, his reputation was going to be ruined! Slagging medic! Sentinel glared at him.

Knock Out didn’t seem perturbed by his Autobot captive’s glare, nor by the sudden appearance of the yet-to-be identified mech. Instead, he smiled widely. “Hi there, love,” he purred. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Love? Sentinel blinked as comprehension settled over him, as well as dread. So THIS was ‘Breakdown’? The mech who had a spike ‘shaped’ like the toy still inside him? Oh frag!

Breakdown snorted and smirked. “When it’s you doing the spectacle? I always do. Though I’m a bit surprised at your choice in partner,” he said, nodding at the still immobilized Sentinel, who he watched over curiously and critically. “Strange berthfellow you’ve got, though I can’t say I disapprove. He does look quite… nice like that,” he smirked as he peered at Sentinel’s exposed and still stuffed valve, making the self-conscious Prime’s cheeks flush in shame.

Knock Out shrugged. “Well, you did give me licence to seek out another partner to keep me company when you’re away. And this charming fellow was nice enough to… ‘agree’ to be put to the test,” he grinned, one hand caressing Sentinel’s chin lazily.

“And does he satisfy you?” Breakdown asked, looking a bit more closely at Sentinel.

“Hmm, there are a few things to change of course,” Knock Out seemed to think aloud. “The spike can be make bigger, for one, and he does need to work on his endurance -- he almost overloaded several times far too soon, such a shame -- and, of course, he’d need to be taught a few little things like, oh, proper respect and compliance,” he mentioned offhandedly.

Breakdown raised an optic ridge. “Is that so? And what qualities does he have to compensate for such obvious… defects?” he asked mildly, an hint of a smile playing on his lips.

Sentinel bristled, even as alarms started to blare loudly in his CPU. He had kinda hoped the Con would take his… friend and leave, possibly letting him behind alone to be found by… a fellow Autobot he would have bought the silence of. That… incident would have been swiftly swept under the rug and he’d never think about it again -- except perhaps to place a special bounty on Knock Out to be sure the slagger would be taken down eventually. Bounty hunters were useful for this like that, right?

But now, with the way the other Con was eyeing him… He had the sinking feeling it wasn’t going to be so easy. Especially when he heard Knock Out list out his ‘qualities’.

… Oh Primus, hadn’t the filthy medic said he wanted someone to ‘share’ with his lover?! Oh nonononono! No way! The big brute would see Sentinel wasn’t his type and they would leave!... right?

“Well, he does have a nice face, he know how to take care of himself and has such a wonderfully applied polish layer -- though perhaps our recent activities on this dirty floor have put a damper on it,” the medic chuckled. “But really, he’s such a handsome mech! He taste very sweet too, which is a nice bonus. And, on the plus side, his valve could take your spike without any problem,” he purred seductively at his lover.

Breakdown’s smile widened. “Is that so?” he purred too, eyeing Sentinel in a way that the Prime found VERY alarming.

Knock Out nodded eagerly. “Oh yes he does! I tested it. Actually, you can see the results of said test here,” he said, gesturing at Sentinel’s valve and the toy still stuffed into it, making Breakdown hum pleasantly. Sentinel’s Spark sunk. Dear Primus, no…

“If he is as ‘perfect’ as you describe him, then I can’t wait to have a taste myself,” Breakdown grinned.

“Why don’t you already then?” the medic said, moving to the side but still snuggling against Sentinel’s immobile frame. The Prime just shook his head frantically -- or tried to; his head definitely moved, but the motion was sluggish and unelegant. “Hum, the paralysis is wearing off, you might want to try now,” he urged the bigger mech gently.

Breakdown rumbled. “As nice as it would be, I’m afraid there is no time. I was sent to bring you back immediately. Orders from above: we must retreat at once.”

“Already?” Knock Out seemed disappointed.

Breakdown shrugged. “Yeah. Mission’s over, defenses have been tested and judged too strong, already several casualties on our side, the usual gig. That said, we did make a couple of prisoners the higher ups will be happy to ransom. And, unless I’m mistaken, there’s always room for one more,” he grinned as he approached Sentinel’s prone frame.

Sentinel’s mouth dropped in shock. He wouldn’t be taken prisoner! No way! He tried once more to move and wiggle away, but his frame barely reacted. Dread settling over his Spark and processor, he could only watch the big mech loom over him.

Knock Out laughed as he stopped snuggling and went to his pedes. “Is that so? Oh, but this one is an officer, he should be treated with some consideration for his rank! Perhaps we could lodge him in a cabin… ours, perhaps? He’d be more than welcome to… share the berth,” he suggested, smirking.

“Indubitably,” Breakdown answered seriously as he grabbed Sentinel and threw him over his shoulder, making the Prime yelp and gasp and moan as the toy inside him was abruptly pushed in a different angle. It made the large Con chuckle. “My, he is rather vocal, isn’t he?”

“Very much so,” Knock Out answered just as seriously. “You don’t mind, do you?”

The larger Decepticon just laughed. “Of course not! I think the three of us will have a wonderful time,” he said, chuckling as he started walking, carrying Sentinel over his shoulder as if the Autobot weighed nothing.

The Prime gasped and tried to curse as his face was flattened against the back of his captor, and he tried to swear even more when, supposedly under the pretext to ‘hold him steady’, one of Breakdown’s hand started to fondle his backside, squeezing his aft a few times. Sentinel managed to move his hand and actually hit the oaf manhandling him a couple of times. Sadly, he had no strength left, and the large Decepticon barely seemed to felt it. He was, however, very amused.

“My, he is spirited! When you chose, you don’t do it by half, eh, love?”

“That I don’t,” the medic approved, him too letting a hand run over Sentinel’s aft, to the Prime’s indignation. It led him to release another couple of static-filled curses, although the statics seemed to lessen by now. “Hmm, I’ll definitely need to teach him better manners. I dislike hearing such words,” he sneered. “If we want to hold a conservation, I’d rather not hear swear words every few words.”

“I don’t see why you want mechs who can hold a conversation so badly. Their mouths have better use, after all,” Breakdown smirked. “Uses you always seemed to prefer over conversation.”

“I like to know I’m with a cultured mech, is that a crime?” the medic said, rolling his optics. Sentinel noted with a shudder that he didn’t contradict his companion over the fact he liked to put his lovers’ mouths to ‘better uses’.

“Ready?” Breakdown asked the lithe mech.

“Ay. Let’s go,” Knock Out said simply, glancing amusedly at Sentinel.

He couldn’t wait to be back in his quarters. Then, the real fun would begin…


	2. Epilogue

“Hmm, yes, like that. Push your glossa further inside,” Knock Out instructed as he spread his legs further apart, sinking deeper into the wonderfully comfortable, large pillow he was leaning against.

Kneeling face down between his legs, his face buried against Knock Out’s interface array, Sentinel Prime glared. He really wished he could swear at the mech, punch him, kick him, escape and get back on Cybertron, but it was currently impossible.

His vocalizer was, unfortunately, offline, thanks to a ‘mod’ the medic had installed on him while he was ‘doing a check up on his pretty catch’. Slagger seldom turned it back on, when he really wanted Sentinel to talk, but most of the time, he thought conversation wasn’t ‘necessary’. He couldn’t kick while being kept forcefully kneeling, and he couldn’t punch so long his wrists were pinned behind his back with stasis cuffs.

He glared some more at the red mech, refusing to comply, when the mech behind him reminded him of his presence by thrusting deeper inside him, making him silently yelp.

“Knock Out asked you something, dear,” Breakdown rumbled, hands over Sentinel’s hips, thrusting in and out of him at a steady pace. The Prime whined as he felt that too large spike stroke clusters upon clusters of nodes, making his valve clench hard around the large rod inside him. Honestly, he had prefered the toy; at least that slagging thing didn’t move and made him mad with… with pleasure he didn’t want!

He keened as the large Decepticon continued to thrust inside him steadily. He couldn’t wait for that brute to get off the ship!

It had been two orbital cycles already since he had been captured by the duo, and in all that time, he had gotten used, so to speak, to their… habits. Breakdown was often gone for decacycles at time. The Prime wasn’t sure of what he did, and he didn’t think he wanted to know. All that he cared to know was that when Breakdown was ‘on leave’, he spent all his time in his and Knock Out’s quarters, resting… or fragging Sentinel between naps.

Knock Out, at least, worked almost every solar cycle, leaving Sentinel blissfully alone. Well, blissfully… he tended far too often to left Sentinel spread-eagle on the berth, with various toys stuffed into him. If he was ‘lucky’, it was just a false spike. If he was not, it was a vibrator. Sentinel had never thought he’d came to hate interfacing, but the two dirty Cons certainly were making him reconsider.

He hated them and hated the way they kept pawing at him. However, no matter how reluctant he was, how unwilling he was to yield to them, his body always buckled under their ministrations. His valve lubricated, his spike stiffened, and they just… He shuddered. He really didn’t want to think about all the things they were making him do.

“Well, Sentinel darling?” Knock Out asked, cupping one of Sentinel’s cheeks in his hands, pressing the Prime’s face further against his interface array. “Are you in a teasing mood?” he wondered aloud. “If you are… Well, perhaps we could tease you back?” he asked, a hint of a smirk on his face.

Sentinel swallowed. No, he didn’t want them to ‘tease’ him. They could drag it out for megacycles! Reluctantly, he started to lick the Decepticon medic’s valve again. The red mech purred. “Yesss, it’s more like this. Deeper inside, darling.”

Sentinel shuttered his optics and did as he was ordered. It drew chuckles from Breakdown even as Knock Out sighed in pleasure. “Still so shy!” the larger Decepticon laughed. “Aww, don’t be like that, pet,” he said, patting Sentinel’s aft. “No need to play coy with us! We know each others so well already! And, want to learn a secret?” he said, thrusting deeper inside Sentinel’s port, making the Prime’s frame rock.

Sentinel tensed a bit. When Breakdown asked things like that, it was rarely pleasant for him.

“Well, you may not have heard, but Autobot HQ called the ship recently…” he trailed off, his moves slowing down.

Knock Out raised his head and frowned. “Don’t tell me we’re going to have to give him back so soon!” he pouted.

Sentinel’s Spark missed a bit. Could it be? Finally?

Sentinel was a prisoner, true, but whoever was in charge of the ship -- ship he didn’t know the name of either -- had deemed that all prisoners could be ransomed, should the Autobots accept their conditions or set a worthy prize. The Prime had hoped to swiftly be exchanged -- after all, he was a promising officer, surely Ultra Magnus would see fit to get him back as soon as possible? -- but alas, he hadn’t counted on the number and the quality of the prisoners taken by the Cons during the battle he had been captured at.

For one, he wasn’t the only Prime to have gotten caught. Some other mech Sentinel was unfamiliar with was also a prisoner, and it was clear that the mech, with his experience and age, ranked above Sentinel in term of priority. There was also a couple of engineers the Sciences Ministry had deemed high priority. Oh, and the nephew of a Council Member, and a young noble whose Creators were generous donators to the Elite Guard. Plus some foot soldiers nobody cared much about but their families, who were raising a racket over their return.

All that, Sentinel had learned from Knock Out and Breakdown, from offhand comments. It had been enough for the Prime to gather he wasn’t considered high priority so long Ultra Magnus had to compose with bigger interests.

So, while some of his fellow Autobots were exchanged for credits or fuel or other prisoners, he was still held prisoner in his captors’ own quarters and used like some… some frag toy or cheap pleasurebot!

But this time, perhaps…? He didn’t dare to believe it quite yet, but he wanted to, so much!

Unfortunately, Breakdown chuckled, and Sentinel’s hopes were crushed once more. “No, love, not just yet. They did agree for the return of that Minibot in exchange of some oil barrels.”

“That runt? He is a low rank, is he not?” Knock Out asked, still holding Sentinel’s face.

“He is,” Breakdown allowed. “However, his family has big shares in the energon farms, and they decided to pay the ransom themselves rather than wait for the HQ to get their gears together and actually do it.”

Knock Out laughed. “Good for them, I suppose. Did anyone say anything about our pretty Prime yet?”

Breakdown smiled at his lover. “None so far. I guess you’re with us for an orbital cycle or two more, pet,” he said, patting Sentinel’s aft lightly. “Aren’t you happy?”

Sentinel twitched. Happy. Yeah. Right. A moan escaped him as Breakdown thrusted back into him, grip easing, one hand going to stroke Sentinel’s spike -- his new spike, which had been enlarged to Knock Out’s satisfaction; the mech had also added ridges on it. Had circumstances been different, Sentinel might have enjoyed it, but as things were, he couldn’t bear to care for it.

The caresses just made Sentinel whine even more. So close, so close to overload! And he couldn’t, because a ring fastened around the base stopped him from doing so. Knock Out liked interface sessions to last long, and he wasn’t satisfied yet with the Prime’s endurance, so toys were always part of their ‘little games’.

Knock Out chuckled. “I’m sure he is. So, pet? Get it done, will you?” he asked plainly, spreading his legs even farther as an encouragement for the Autobot.

Spark thinking and sighing, Sentinel buried his face against the medic’s interface array once more.

He couldn’t wait for his own ransom to be paid. And once it was and he was back on Cybertron, he’d make sure to chew on the slaggers who had made him wait so long with two perverts before freeing him…

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> Also, if you want an idea of what TFA Knock Out would look like, I'd like to refer you to Rosey-Raven's gallery on deviant.  
> Link to the fanart that decided me to include Knock Out: http://rosey-raven.deviantart.com/art/TFA-Doc-Knock-is-here-382739778?q=gallery%3ARosey-Raven%2F274462&qo=33


End file.
